I Want Nothing More

A dialogue with Abba Arsenius on hiddenness, usefulness, and the one thing needful

“Arsenius, flee from men, and you will be saved.”

— The Sayings of the Desert Fathers

The disciple came to Arsenius after sunset.

The old man was sitting outside his cell.

The disciple bowed and remained standing.

After a long while Arsenius said:

ARSENIUS:

Why have you come?

DISCIPLE:

Because I do not know what I am supposed to become.

Arsenius looked toward the desert.

ARSENIUS:

Who told you that you must become something?

The disciple was silent.

DISCIPLE:

All my life I have belonged somewhere. I have been given responsibilities. People have expected things of me. Even when I wanted God, I wanted Him through something—through service, prayer, teaching, ministry.

Now everything has become confused.

There are doors before me.

Some are generous doors.

Good men have opened them.

But when I look at them, Father, my heart becomes tired.

ARSENIUS:

Then do not enter them yet.

DISCIPLE:

What if one of them is God’s will?

ARSENIUS:

Can God not keep a door open?

The disciple lowered his head.

DISCIPLE:

I am afraid of failing Him.

ARSENIUS:

By doing what?

DISCIPLE:

By doing nothing.

Arsenius smiled faintly.

ARSENIUS:

You still think prayer is nothing.

The disciple began to weep.

DISCIPLE:

There is someone who needs me.

ARSENIUS:

Then you are not doing nothing.

DISCIPLE:

She is old.

She is becoming weaker.

Sometimes she is frightened.

She needs more from me than she once did.

I cannot leave easily.

I cannot promise others what I will be able to do tomorrow.

And yet voices keep asking what I will do with the rest of my life.

ARSENIUS:

What is the rest of your life?

The disciple looked confused.

DISCIPLE:

The years ahead.

ARSENIUS:

Have you seen them?

DISCIPLE:

No.

ARSENIUS:

Then why are you obeying them?

The disciple said nothing.

The night had become very still.

ARSENIUS:

Who needs you tonight?

DISCIPLE:

She does.

ARSENIUS:

Then go to her.

DISCIPLE:

And tomorrow?

ARSENIUS:

Has tomorrow called you?

DISCIPLE:

No.

ARSENIUS:

Then why answer?

The disciple sat upon the ground.

After a while he said:

DISCIPLE:

Father, there is something else.

I no longer want to be important.

I do not even want to be useful in the way I once wanted to be useful.

I want to disappear.

Arsenius turned toward him sharply.

ARSENIUS:

Into what?

The disciple hesitated.

DISCIPLE:

Into silence.

ARSENIUS:

That is not enough.

DISCIPLE:

Into prayer.

ARSENIUS:

Not enough.

The disciple’s voice became very quiet.

DISCIPLE:

Into God.

Arsenius looked at him for a long time.

ARSENIUS:

Good.

Now you have begun to speak truthfully.

The disciple wept.

DISCIPLE:

But what becomes of everything I have been?

ARSENIUS:

Let it die.

DISCIPLE:

Even the good?

ARSENIUS:

Especially the good.

The disciple looked startled.

ARSENIUS:

Evil you know to renounce.

The good is more dangerous when you use it to prevent yourself from becoming poor.

DISCIPLE:

But gifts should be used.

ARSENIUS:

By whom?

DISCIPLE:

By us.

ARSENIUS:

They belong to God.

If He wants them, He knows where you are.

Silence.

Then the disciple whispered:

DISCIPLE:

I have spent so many years trying to give God my life.

ARSENIUS:

No.

You have spent many years trying to decide what your life given to God should look like.

The words struck him.

He covered his face.

Much later he said:

DISCIPLE:

Then what should I do?

Arsenius pointed toward the darkness beyond the cell.

ARSENIUS:

Go home.

Care for the one God has given you.

Say the Name.

Tell the truth.

Promise nothing you cannot give.

Do not solve tomorrow.

DISCIPLE:

And if they ask me who I am?

ARSENIUS:

Say your name.

DISCIPLE:

And if they ask what I am?

Arsenius was silent.

Then he said:

ARSENIUS:

A man standing before God.

DISCIPLE:

And my vocation?

ARSENIUS:

Love the person before you.

DISCIPLE:

And my ministry?

ARSENIUS:

Do not abandon her.

DISCIPLE:

And my prayer?

ARSENIUS:

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me.

DISCIPLE:

And afterward?

Arsenius looked into the darkness.

ARSENIUS:

There is your sickness.

The disciple understood.

He bowed until his forehead touched the earth.

When he rose, Arsenius had already turned toward his cell.

The disciple called after him.

DISCIPLE:

Abba.

The old man stopped.

DISCIPLE:

What if nothing more is ever asked of me?

Arsenius did not turn around.

ARSENIUS:

Then perhaps you will finally learn that God Himself was what was being asked of you.

And he entered his cell.

The disciple remained alone beneath the stars.

For the first time, the emptiness before him did not seem empty.

He whispered the Name.

Then he went home.